Category Archives: Big Thompson River

I planned another trip to Eleven Mile Canyon on Friday, so I sought a nearby destination for my fishing venture on Thursday, October 3, 2019. The flows on the Big Thompson River below Lake Estes were in the 45 – 50 CFS range, and I knew from past experience, that this level was nearly ideal. The fly shop reports were encouraging, so I reviewed all my posts on trips to the Big Thompson in late September and early October since 2010. The blog descriptions reminded me of some stellar days, so I decided to make the drive. I noted that deer hair caddis, stimulators, Jake’s gulp beetles, blue winged olives, and salvation nymphs produced decent results on previous trips.

I arrived at a pullout along the upper river several miles below the dam by 10:30AM, and I was perched on a rock with my Orvis Access four weight ready to cast by 11AM. The temperature was a chilly 48 degrees, so I snuggled in my Northface light down coat for the morning session.

Shadows Over My Morning Starting Point

My quest for Big Thompson trout commenced with a tan pool toy hopper, salvation nymph and soft hackle emerger; and I netted three trout in the first hour, before I paused for lunch a bit after noon. Two of the early catches were brown trout, and one was an eleven-inch rainbow. Each of my flies attracted a fish in the early going.

Productive

Number Three

After lunch I continued through a very attractive section that featured deep runs and pools, and I concluded that my flies were not drifting deep enough for the trout, that were likely hugging bottom, until the sun warmed the water column. I lengthened the tippet section that connected the hopper to the salvation, and I replaced the non-beaded soft hackle emerger with a beadhead hares ear. These two changes extended the length and added weight with the hope of generating deeper drifts.

Another Fine Rainbow

The move paid dividends, and the fish count rose steadily from three to eight. Most of the early afternoon landed fish were rainbows, and several chunky thirteen inchers surprised me. The ‘bows grabbed the hares ear in narrow, deep slots; and I congratulated myself for the modifications that produced deeper drifts.

Love the Speckles

By 1:30PM I reached a long slow-moving pool, and earlier I witnessed two anglers, as they prospected the smooth water. Rather than fish the water that experienced recent thrashing, I climbed the bank and returned to my car. I performed a U-turn and drove downstream for another mile and then parked in a pullout just before the first bridge-crossing after Noel’s Draw. I used this as an opportunity to shed the light down layer, and I replaced it with a fleece hoodie.

I geared up once again and hiked down the highway, until I was .2 mile below the bridge, and at this point I encountered another angler, who was striding up the shoulder of US 34 toward the section, that I targeted. When I remained thirty yards above him, I decided to descend down a steep bank covered with large boulders. This proved to be a flawed strategy. I was one-third of the way down, when I stepped on the top of a rock and placed all my weight on it. As I prepared to make another step, the rock shifted, and I lost my balance and fell forward. In a split-second reaction, I dropped my rod and reached my two hands forward and broke my fall on a large flat rock below the unstable rock that proved my undoing. Once I got over the shock of the mishap, I became aware of a burning sensation in both wrists and the palms of my hands, as they absorbed the brunt of my weight. Additionally, my right shin throbbed, and I concluded that I bruised it on the crest of the rock responsible for my plunge.

I decided to sit down to rest, regain my composure, and assess the extent of my injuries. I checked my rod, and it survived the accident in one piece, and I was pleased with that outcome. My throbbing leg was inside my waders, so I was not in a position to examine the damage, but I was fairly certain that it was a deep contusion. The burning nerve sensation in my wrists and palms gradually subsided, and I decided to resume fishing. I prospected the dry/dropper through three or four nice plunge pools with no success, but my mind remained more concerned with the aftermath of my dangerous fall.

At this point I reached a whitewater chute, so I carefully climbed the rocky bank on all fours and reversed my direction, until I was beyond the bridge and the Santa Fe. I cautiously maneuvered down a much shorter bank and resumed my upstream progression. By now all aches from my left hand disappeared, but my right hand sent out twinges of pain, when I bent my wrist backward beyond 45 degrees. I periodically tested my wrist by flexing my fingers and bending the wrist in various directions, and mobility remained, although the backward bend generated the most discomfort.

Lovely Spot

I covered the relatively straight trough between the bridge and a long smooth pool in the early afternoon with no landed fish, and I considered quitting, but the sight of the pool caused me to reconsider. I decided to change my approach and tied a size 16 gray deer hair caddis to my line, after I removed the three-fly set up.

The injured wrist continued to shoot spurts of pain up my arm, but I fired a series of long casts to the shallow and clear tail of the pool, and a few spooked fish darted downstream. After five minutes in the slow tailout I reached the midsection, where the main channel fanned out, and two nice deep shelf pools occupied the space between the center run and the banks. I paused to observe, and several random rises increased my interest level, and allowed me to temporarily forget my discomfort. The gray caddis was ignored, so I switched to a black parachute ant. I did not see blue winged olives, and the wind gusted periodically, so I concluded that the rises resulted from terrestrial windfalls.

Lowering

The theory was sound, but the ant was treated with disdain. Again, I pondered my next move, and I spotted a pair of small mayflies fluttering erratically in the wind above the river. I knotted a CDC blue winged olive to my line and sprayed casts to the sites of recent rises, but my favorite BWO imitation was ignored. After twenty minutes of futility I swapped the CDC olive for a Klinkhammer BWO emerger, and although it required a bountiful amount of casting, I eventually duped two decent fish on the low floating emerger style dry fly.

The fish count was perched on ten, but I was challenged by a very respectable rainbow, that darted to the surface to suck down a tiny morsel on a fairly regular timetable. The fish was no more that five feet away and three feet beyond the center current seam. I decided to revert to a CDC olive, but this time I selected a size 24 with a very slender body and a tall CDC wing. The choice proved fortuitous, and in a short amount of time I pricked one fish and hooked and played another for a few seconds, before it escaped. While this action was transpiring, the dark rainbow continued to tease me with aggressive darting rises right under my nose.

Brilliant Colors

I sopped up the moisture with my shirt and dipped the CDC olive in my dry shake canister and fluffed the wing, until it stood erect with a narrow profile. I began to make short casts above the targeted rainbow, and I held my line off the water, so that only the fly and leader touched the surface. Finally, after at least ten drifts, the crimson form darted upward and sipped my fly! Since I was holding my rod high to keep the line off the water, I only needed to execute a quick lift, and I was attached to a writhing rainbow trout. After a few minutes I dipped my net beneath the thrashing beauty, and I celebrated my hard-earned success.

CDC BWO Finally Worked

The last hour of dry fly action enabled me to forget my fall and the periodic pain in my right wrist. I salvaged a double-digit day that included some very bright vividly colored rainbow trout. I canceled my plans for an Eleven Mile trip on Friday, but hopefully my wrist recovers enough to allow a day of fishing on Monday. Early October is way too early to end the 2019 fishing season.

After three challenging days of fishing on the North Platte River, I was anxious for a day of rest on Wednesday. Unfortunately this day developed into the nicest day of the spring of 2019. It would have been an ideal day to fly fish, but I took advantage to plant the remainder of my raised beds. A glance at the five day forecast revealed that Thursday was the last mild day, before cold weather and a storm arrived. One day of relaxation was enough, and I pondered options for a day of fishing on Thursday.

South Boulder Creek, the North Fork of St. Vrain Creek, the Big Thompson River and the Cache la Poudre were on my radar, but after reviewing streamflows and fly shop fishing reports I settled on the Big Thompson. Current flows in the canyon below Lake Estes were a moderate 37 CFS, and I was drawn to low clear water after the dirty conditions on the North Platte.

I departed from my house in Denver by 8:45, and this enabled me to arrive at a pullout five miles below the dam at 10:30AM. The low clear flows were indeed in place, and the air temperature was in the mid-fifties, as I jumped into my waders and pulled on a fleece layer. The weather remained comfortable throughout my day on the river. The wind gusted off and on, but it did not represent a significant hindrance until the final thirty minutes.

Lots of Visible Fish in This Starting Area

The starting location was a thirty yard long relatively slow moving pool, and five or six small trout darted from the bank, where I entered to begin my morning quest for trout. I began the morning with a yellow fat Albert, beadhead hares ear nymph, and red annelid worm. I prospected with this combination for ten minutes, and managed two refusals to the fat Albert. I was skeptical of the annelid, so I exchanged it for a beadhead RS2. These three flies finally attracted interest, and I landed four trout before I took my lunch break at noon. A brown trout and rainbow nabbed the RS2, and then a small brown grabbed the hares ear. The last of the four trout netted in the morning slurped the yellow fat Albert, and this represented my first trout caught on a dry fly in 2019.

Grabbed a RS2

During the one hour before lunch I continued to notice sporadic refusals to the fat Albert, and I was late to set the hook on quite a few fish. I speculated that these were small fish that nipped the tiny RS2. I observed several groups of rainbows that appeared to be in spawning mode, so I exchanged the hares ear for an apricot soft egg, and I bounced this along the bottom for the last thirty minutes to no avail.

A Rainbow Joins the Count

The Trout Snack

After lunch I continued with the egg and RS2 for a bit without success, so I once again made a change and replaced the egg fly with a salvation nymph. A fifteen minute trial failed to change my fortunes, so I reverted to the hares ear and retained the RS2. From 12:30 until 2:30 I migrated upstream with the yellow fat Albert, hares ear, and RS2; and I tallied three small brown trout. All these fish slashed the RS2, as I drifted the dry/dropper configuration along the rocks that bordered the left and right bank. The third brown actually consumed a sparkle wing RS2, as I broke off the initial RS2 in the process of landing fish number six.

By 2:30 I encountered another angler, so I climbed the bank and hiked back along the shoulder of highway 34, until I returned to my starting point. This section of the river was the thirty yard slow moving pool that entertained me during the early stages of my outing. I decided to experiment with a dry fly in the area, where I could see the reaction of visible trout. I selected a size 14 gray stimulator from my fly box, and I began to shoot long casts to visible fish. The wind accelerated significantly compared to earlier, and I was forced to compensate by directing casts ten feet to the right of the location I targeted.

Needless to say accuracy was not an effective part of my arsenal; however, I did manage to generate a look and several splashy refusals to the stimulator. I paused to consider downsizing to a size 16 deer hair caddis, but the wind once again lashed out with several extended gusts. These outbursts rippled the surface of the water, but once the blast of air subsided, three or four rises materialized throughout the pool. I knew from similar experiences in the past, that the sudden surface feeding probably resulted from terrestrials being blown into the water. I immediately stripped up my line and added a size 18 black parachute ant on a twelve inch dropper behind the stimulator.

Lunch View

I began to cast the double dry to the areas, where I spotted rises, and during the last twenty minutes I succeeded in hooking and landing a brown trout to elevate the fish count to eight. In addition I generated three temporary connections. I feel certain that I cracked the code, and ants were the food of choice for the opportunistic Big Thompson trout. Unfortunately it was very difficult to detect the subtle slurp of the trout given the low riding ant and the rippled surface.

Thursday was a pleasant spring day in the Rocky Mountains. I landed eight small trout over four hours including two on dry flies. The catch rate of two per hour was average based on my fly fishing history. In retrospect I should have factored in the high ratio of rainbow trout in the Big Thompson River and the seasonal spawning ritual, when I chose my destination. I plan to rest the Big T for several weeks, before I return, when the rainbow reproduction cycle ebbs.

With an off day between physical therapy appointments I decided to take advantage with a day of fly fishing. I noted that the flows on the Big Thompson River below Lake Estes dropped to the 125 CFS range, and from past experience I recognized that this level translated to manageable albeit higher than ideal wading. I packed my gear and arrived along the river by 10:15AM, and after I jumped in my waders and strung my Orvis Access four weight, I was in the water ready to cast. I added four sets of stretches for my ailing elbow to my already lengthy preparatory routine.

The air temperature was in the sixties, when I began my quest for Big Thompson trout, and the high temperature peaked in the upper seventies. The stream was indeed clipping along at 125 CFS, and it carried a slight bit of turbidity, but I judged the clarity adequate for fly fishing. I also noticed rather large clumps of ice particles, and this provided evidence of a fairly intense hail storm, but I had no knowledge of the timing. I surmised that a storm generated the ice balls and clouded the water overnight.

Area Along the Left Bank Yielded Trout Number One

I began my fly fishing adventure on Thursday with a size 14 parachute green drake. A bit of research on my blog and fishing reports revealed that I experienced a small amount of success with green drakes on the Big Thompson River in July, although the encounters were documented at earlier dates. I observed no other insect activity and assumed that the trout had long memories, when green drakes were involved.

Parachute Green Drake Produced

The green drake hunch paid dividends, when a ten inch brown trout surfaced and nabbed the low floating dry fly on the fifth cast of the day. I was guardedly optimistic at this point, although I would discover that more effort was required for future success. I continued on with my upstream movement and landed a nine inch rainbow in a wide riffle close to the bridge below my parking space. Instead of passing under the bridge, I ascended the steep bank and walked along highway 34 and then dropped back down to the stream on the western side of the overpass.

Another Decent Brown Trout

The river at this point narrowed, and the targets of my casts were deeper and generally faster. I questioned whether the solitary green drake was the best approach in this type of water, so I converted to a tan pool toy, prince nymph and salvation nymph. I chose the prince and salvation in case green drake and pale morning dun nymphs commanded the attention of the local trout. The three fly dry/dropper set up enabled me to fish deeper, and my focus intensified with the change in approach, but I failed to attract interest during the forty-five minute period, before I paused for lunch.

Since I was directly below the Santa Fe, I climbed the bank and tailgated for lunch. I used the stop at the car to stock two additional longer prince nymphs in my fleece wallet, and one of them took a position on my line in the first fifteen minutes of the afternoon. I sought a longer nymph more in line with the size of a western green drake. The thought process was sound, but the trout failed to affirm my logic.

Green Drake Adorns Corner of Mouth

Green drakes typically hatch in the afternoon in Colorado, and the parachute version accounted for my only landed fish, so I reverted to the same size 14 green drake imitation, that served me well during the first hour of fishing. I flicked the large dry fly to likely fish holding lies and bumped the fish count to four, before I approached a long pool that contained a deep entry run, that sliced the slow moving section in half. The tail of the pool widened, and an assortment of relatively shallow pockets spanned across the river, before the current funneled through a large narrow whitewater chute.

I began spraying short downstream casts to the staggered pockets, and much to my surprise trout rose and chomped the green drake. Most of my casts were downstream, and I added two additional netted fish to the count, although I also experienced three momentary connections. This section and time period represented the fastest action on July 26.

On Display

Eventually I exhausted all the small pockets and turned my attention to the gorgeous shelf pools on either side of the deep center current, but surprisingly the trout did not react to my green drake in the attractive area. A short section of additional pocket water above the pool yielded two additional trout, and my confidence in the parachute fly surged once again.

I was about to prospect some deeper runs and pools, when a dark cloud drifted overhead, and the sky darkened considerably. In an effort to anticipate a rain shower, I undertook the process of putting on my raincoat. I was about to resume casting, when a relatively loud thunderclap caused me to reevaluate. Good sense prevailed, and I crossed the river and bashed through some brush and returned to the car. I opened the hatchback and sat on the rear mat just as some large raindrops splattered on the pavement. One minute after I perched on the rear of the car, the rain accelerated and descended in sheets for eight minutes before the sun reappeared.

Very Pretty Rainbow

Blue sky to the west was my sign to resume, so I ambled back along the shoulder of the road and assumed the position that I recently vacated. I peppered the area above me with fluttering casts of the drake, and in two instances I observed a trout, as it finned toward the fly and then dropped back to its resting place after a rude rejection of my offering. This shunning behavior caused me to experiment with three alternative flies in the form of a Jake’s gulp beetle, size 18 black parachute ant, and a size 16 gray deer hair caddis. The beetle prompted a refusal, and the other pair of trial flies failed to exact any form of reaction.

I checked my watch and noted that the time was after 3PM. The non-existent action convinced me to call it quits, and I strode back to the car and stashed my gear. Thursday was a slow day on the Big Thompson River. Eight fish landed in four hours represented an average catch rate, and the largest fish may have stretched to eleven inches. The flows were on the high side, and this circumstance reduced the number of possible fish holding locations. All the trout rose to the parachute green drake, and this occurred even though I never witnessed a single green drake natural. I did discover that many fish patrolled relatively shallow pockets, and these stream residents seemed the most willing surface feeders. In retrospect, I probably should have sought more stretches that presented a similar water type.

I chose the Big Thompson River on Monday because high winds were forecast for other potential destinations (as well as the Big Thompson), but the drive to Estes Park was shorter, and this translated to less time sacrificed, in the event that I was blown off the water. When I checked the flows on Sunday night, the Big Thompson chart displayed 83 cfs, and I knew from past experience that this level was very manageable. However when I arrived, the river seemed higher, and consequently I was never able to cross to the opposite bank due to the strong velocity. When I prepared my notes for this blog, I checked the flows again, and I discovered that my personal assessment was accurate. Flows elevated from 83 cfs to 111 cfs in the morning of April 30, before I made the drive. I never seem to do well when flows increase dramatically in a short window, and Monday maintained that trend.

Starting Point

Although temperatures peaked in the upper seventies in Denver, I suspect they remained in the low to mid 60’s below Estes Park. The wind was tolerable, but intermittent gusts were a factor. Dense gray clouds blocked the sun much of the afternoon, and this atmospheric condition likely explained the lower temperatures in the northern Front Range.

Sparkle Wing RS2

I fished at three different sections of the Big Thompson, with the first stop located two or three miles below the dam. Each succeeding location was farther downstream and within a mile of the first. I began fishing with a yellow fat Albert, beadhead hares ear, and a sparkle wing RS2 attached to my four weight line on my Sage nine foot rod. In the first forty-five minutes before I paused for lunch, I landed three trout that were barely over my six inch threshold to qualify for counting. Two were brown trout and one was a diminutive rainbow. I also witnessed two splashy refusals to the fat Albert, so after lunch I exchanged the top fly for a size ten Chernobyl ant.

I continued to fish upstream, until I approached the point where the river split around an island. I decided to halt my progression at this position, and I drove downstream to locale number two. Another car was parked ahead of mine, and I quickly determined it was another angler, who was nymphing just above a bridge. I decided to hike down the road for .3 mile, with the hope that the other fisherman might vacate by the time I returned.

Getting Bigger

Shelf Pools Were the Ticket

During the next two hours I worked my way upstream with the three fly dry/dropper combination, and I succeeded in boosting the fish count to seven. Numbers four and five were also on the small side, but a nine inch rainbow thrashed in my net and boosted the count to six. During this time I swapped the hares ear for an iron sally, and after the sally failed to excite the fish, I replaced it with an emerald caddis. The first six trout nabbed the sparkle wing RS2, so I was quite suprised when a ten inch brown trout grabbed the emerald caddis pupa near the top of a deep run. This fish proved to be the longest of the day.

A Rainbow Joins the Mix

When I reached the bridge where my car was parked, I noted that the vehicle of the other angler remained in place. I was noticing some sparse blue winged olive activity, and I decided to investigate a nice run and pool upstream from my parking space. On previous trips I experienced decent success with rising trout in the aforementioned pool. Unfortunately as I approached the anticipated section, I encountered the other fisherman once again.

I reversed and returned to the car and once again drove to another pullout less than a mile downstream. For the next hour I progressed upstream through some nice pockets and moderate depth runs, but my efforts were in vain. At 3:30 as the sky darkened due to dense clouds, I noticed an increase in blue winged olive activity, and eventually several rising fish revealed their presence. I decided to take the plunge and removed the dry/dropper rig and converted to a Craven soft hackle emerger and fished it like a dry fly. I applied floatant to the body, and after a large number of drifts I managed to hook and land another small brown barely over six inches.

For my final act I skipped some marginal pockets and advanced directly to a long pool across from the Santa Fe. I paused and observed for a few minutes and spotted three tiny trout along the edge in front of me, as they darted to the surface to grab tiny morsels on a fairly regular basis. I was about to pass on the sighted fish because of their diminutive size, but I reconsidered and shot ten casts over the area. I could not follow the low riding emerger in the current seam, and I was about to quit, when I caught a glimpse of a rise next to a bank side boulder on the opposte side of the stream. This fish was a bit larger, and it captured my interest.

BWO Lover

I waded one third of the way across the river, and I began executing reach casts above the rock that served as a current break for the target riser. After several casts four additional feeding trout revealed their presence. They were all ignoring my emerger, and I was unable to follow it in the dim light and swirling current, so I opted to replace it with a Klinkhammer BWO. The change proved fortuitous, and I netted two additional trout before I called it quits at 4:30. One was a ten inch rainbow and the other a comparable brown.

Monday was a challenging day, and I attribute the difficulty to the sudden rise in stream flows. Fortunately I adjusted and managed to make the best of the situation to reach double digits. The fish were small, but I was thankful for any action on April 30.

When I checked flows on the DWR web site on Wednesday, I noticed that the Big Thompson River finally dropped to 113 CFS, and this was in the upper range of ideal. The Big T has been chugging along in the two hundred CFS range nearly all summer, so this piece of news was welcome. With high temperatures in Denver projected to reach the seventies after a snowstorm and frigid temperatures on Monday, I enthusiastically prepared to make the trip to the tailwater below Estes Park.

Pocket Water at the Start

I arrived at a dirt parking area .75 mile below Noel’s Draw by 10:45, and after assembling my Orvis Access four weight rod I was prepared to cast at 11AM. I began fishing with a size 14 gray stimulator, and I quickly prospected some nice pocket water. After twenty minutes of futile casting, I dapped the stimulator in a tiny pocket in front of an exposed rock, and a chunky rainbow trout slurped the fake. The rainbow measured twelve inches, and I quickly snapped a couple photographs to capture my first fish of the day. Needless to say after failing to catch a fish on Sunday, I was thrilled to finally feel a tug on my line. My confidence plummeted rapidly after Sunday’s poor experience, and I savored this initial success.

First Trout Was This Fine Rainbow

Unfortunately this was the only fish to bend my rod between 11AM and 2PM, and my fragile sense of fly fishing bravado once again began to dip. I cycled through a size 16 olive-brown deer hair caddis, a Jake’s gulp beetle, and a black parachute ant with only a refusal and inspection to show for my efforts. I sat along the stream and ate my lunch at 12:20PM, and when I resumed fishing, I decided to try a dry/dropper approach. The single dry fly method was not delivering results, so I surmised that perhaps the higher than normal flows promoted subsurface feeding.

Salivating Over That Deep Run

It was a theory, but it did not prove to be reality. I tied a Chernboyl ant to my line and added a salvation nymph and RS2. I enticed a brown trout to smash the Chernboyl ant on top, but the fish wiggled free before I gained control. At 1:30 I waded underneath the bridge and found myself on the southeast side of the river, where I worked my way along the bank for a bit with no sign of fish. The lighting was challenging and the wading difficult, so I crossed back to the roadside in a wide relatively shallow riffle and continued upstream along the right bank.

The dry/dropper technique proved to be less productive than the single dry fly approach, so I snipped off the three flies and reverted to the gray stimulator. The stimulator accounted for my only landed fish, so why not give it another trial? Prior to Thursday’s trip I read my blog posts that chronicled previous visits to the Big Thompson in October, and I noted that a gray stimulator and gray deer hair caddis generated a fair amount of success.

After a few minutes I encountered another spot, where I was able to cross the stream, so I took advantage and began prospecting the left bank with the large attractor dry fly. As I made this transition to the opposite bank, a guide accosted me from the road. He asked if he could place his clients in the river across from the red house that was fifty yards upstream. I did not give it much thought, and I agreed to his proposal, since I was not having much success.

Eventually I covered the attractive slow water along the left bank with my stimulator, and I circled around a twenty yard whitewater chute. The guide and his two clients by now were wading in the long pool above the fast water, where I hoped to cross. Unfortunately the angler that was not accompanied by the guide began fishing at the tail, so I edged my way part way across, and then asked his permission to skirt just below his position. He agreed, and when I climbed to the top of the bank along the road, the guide hustled back and motioned to me. He was concerned that I changed my mind, but I told him that I simply wished to cross the river to return to the car, and the only safe wading location was at the tail just below his client. He was fine, and we exchanged information about effective flies, and I hiked back to the Santa Fe.

The guide was quite courteous, so I was not upset, but my path upstream was now blocked by the party of three. I was not prepared to quit, so I packed my gear in the car and drove downstream for another .75 mile to a nice wide pullout. From previous experience I knew that this section contained some very nice pockets and runs of moderate depth. I quickly grabbed my rod and gear and walked along the shoulder for a bit, until I cut down to the river to a stretch that contained some attractive pockets.

By now it was two o’clock, and I was entrenched on one fish after three hours of fishing. Needless to say my confidence was once again at a low ebb. I decided to stick with the stimulator a bit longer, but I already anticipated that my next step was to switch to a deer hair caddis. I made a few quick casts to some marginal small pockets, and then I encountered a gorgeous deep run along the far bank, where two currents merged in a deep trough. I made a couple casts across the main current and held my rod high so the line would not drag. On the third cast I executed a reach cast and flipped the line upstream thus enabling a very nice long drag free drift, and just as the fly bobbed through the seam where the currents merged, it disappeared in a swirl. I set the hook and quickly maneuvered a ten inch rainbow trout to my net.

After I released my second catch of the day, I sensed that the run was too good to hold only one fish, so I made a couple more reach casts. On the third drift a large nose appeared, and once again the stimulator disappeared in a swirl, and this time I connected with a beautiful fourteen inch rainbow trout. This was my best fish of the day, and I was ecstatic to finally feel the weight of a substantial fish.

Resting

The remainder of the afternoon was a blast. I landed a fourth rainbow on the gray stimulator, and then I spotted a few blue winged olives, as they tumbled along the surface, when the wind periodically gusted. In fact the wind was a huge negative during my entire time in the canyon. The BWO sighting prompted me to add a size 20 RS2 on a three foot dropper to the stimulator, and the move paid off, when I landed six brown trout that snatched the small nymph, as it began to swing or lift. Sandwiched between these brown trout was a fifth rainbow trout, and just like its rainbow cousins that rested in my net earlier, it slashed and ate the stimulator.

I Love the Subtle Pink Stripe

At the end of the day the fish counter rested on eleven, including six brown trout and five rainbows. The rainbows were on average larger than the browns. It was interesting to note that all the brown trout grabbed the trailing RS2, and all the rainbows smacked the stimulator. I landed one trout in the first three hours and netted ten in the last two hours. It was a Jekyll and Hyde day in many ways, but I was pleased to reach double digits on a blustery afternoon with higher than normal flows on the Big Thompson River.

Jane and I enjoyed six days in Oregon, as we visited our daughter, Amy, and attended her graduation from Pacific University. We were quite proud to be present when she accepted her doctorate in physical therapy diploma. The moment when she bowed on the podium for the placement of the doctoral hood was special, and graduating with distinction was a testament to her many years of hard work. Amy worked at a bakery and attended classes part-time in order to obtain the necessary credits in science and math for acceptance into Pacific University. A doctorate in physical therapy was a special achievement by an extraordinary person.

Since I was away from the Colorado fishing scene for nearly a week, I was skeptical that I would find viable stream fishing, as I reviewed the flows on the DWR web site. On the return flight from Portland my thoughts were already focused on stillwater options. I was pleasantly surprised, when I learned that South Boulder Creek flows were reduced to 66 cfs, and the Big Thompson was chugging along at 125 cfs. From prior visits I recognized that both these streams offered manageable levels for fishing, but I chose the Big Thompson because the trend line displayed a flat line over the most recent five days. South Boulder Creek dropped from 110 cfs to 66 cfs within the last twenty-four hours, and I attempt to avoid rivers and streams after abrupt changes.

High and a Bit Off Color, but Not Bad for Late May

I arrived at a paved parking area along the Big Thompson River at 11:30AM, and I quickly pulled on my waders and assembled my Sage four weight. I crossed the highway and surveyed the river and noted that it was indeed relatively high, and it displayed a slight brown tinge. The conditions were not ideal, but quite favorable for late May with run off in progress on many other Colorado drainages. The road was wet from a recent storm, and some dark clouds were visible in the southwestern sky. I opted to pull on my long sleeve Under Armour undershirt and then added my fleece and a raincoat as well. Intermittent rain showers and small storms passed overhead during my three hours on the water, and I was very pleased with my fishing attire. By the time I was prepared to fish, the clock displayed 11:45, so I elected to remain in the car, and I quickly consumed my lunch. Some rain drops splattered the windshield during the last five minutes of lunch, but when I climbed out of the car and gathered my gear, the precipitation ended.

Go2 Sparkle Pupa

Another fisherman was forty yards below my parking spot, so I walked upstream a bit until I was next to the right braid in an area where the river split around an island. I tied a size 8 Chernobyl ant to my line, and then I added a bright green go2 sparkle pupa and a beadhead hares ear. The higher than usual flows forced me to skip over quite a bit of water, as I searched for viable fish holding runs and pockets. I crossed the right channel and moved up the island, but my efforts failed to yield a fish in the first half hour.

First Landed Fish

When I approached the upstream tip of the island, the river spread out a bit, and I quickly discovered that my prospects improved in this type of stream structure. The wider streambed created more shallow runs and pockets, and the dry/dropper approach delivered fish in this scenario. I also swapped the hares ear for a RS2 in case baetis nymphs were active, and the go2 sparkle pupa caddis and bwo nymph imitation remained on my line for the remaining 2.5 hours.

Unusual Spots

Once I committed to the caddis and mayfly nymph, my fishing success began to click. Over the course of the afternoon I landed ten trout, and eight were rainbows, and two brown trout made an acquaintance with my net. A wide riffle above the tip of the island was the most productive area, and I landed four or five from this spot. It was here that I observed a couple BWO adults in the air, and as expected the trout began to attack the RS2, as it lifted near the end of a drift. Several also responded to a late swing at the downstream tail of the riffles. After seven netted fish I exchanged the RS2 for a soft hackle emerger.

Vivid Colors

The blue winged olive hatch seemed to occur in waves, and the most dense emergence coincided with the fifteen minute period when the sky darkened prior to periods of rain. I noticed three or four rises in one section with deep flows next to exposed rocks, but I avoided the hassle of shifting from dry/dropper to a single dry fly, and the fish did not seem to mind. Apparently there were enough active nymphs and emergers to retain their interest in my subsurface offerings.

On Thursday one brown trout smashed the Chernobyl ant, two nabbed the soft hackle emerger, two snatched the go2 sparkle pupa, two nipped the hares ear, and the remainder locked on the RS2. A variety of flies produced, and I was fortunate to select them for my line. I was pleased to experience a double digit day in late May just prior to the heavy snow melt time frame. I hope to defer lake fishing as long as decent stream options are available.

History taught me that the best way to beat a cold is to rest, and that is what I did from Saturday May 6 through Thursday May 11. I discontinued my running and exerciese activities and slept a lot. By Friday May 12, however, the worst was behind me, and I was anxious to resume my fly fishing adventures in 2017.

I surveyed the Department of Water Resources web site and reviewed several fly shop fishing reports, and I concluded that my best option was the Big Thompson River below Estes Park. Flows were increased to the 100 cfs range five days prior, and I knew from experience that the river is reasonably manageable up to 150 cfs. The other two options I considered were Boulder Creek and the North Fork of the St. Vrain. Boulder Creek recently dropped from a spike of 120 cfs to 70, so I was leery of an unsettled situation. The North Fork of the St. Vrain remained at a nice steady 52 cfs, but I prefer to hike a decent distance from the parking lot, and I needed to return home for a conference call by 4PM.

I chose the Big Thompson, and I managed to pull together all the fly fishing necessities by 8AM, and I arrived at a pull out in the upper canyon below Estes Lake by 9:30. Since I enjoyed my throwback day on Boulder Creek on May 4, I assembled my Fenwick two piece five weight fiberglass, and I ambled along the shoulder of the road for .3 mile until I encountered a no trespassing sign. My Instagram friend Trevor was singing the praises of glass, so I decided to pull it out of mothballs, and I enjoyed the short flexible rod for casting large dry/dropper rigs and playing small fish. I did not plan to stray far from the car, so I knew that I could return and switch to one of my graphite models, if I grew dissatisfied with the old cheap glass rod.

When I reached the boundary of the private water, I veered down a rocky embankment, and I configured my line with a size 8 Chernobyl ant, beadhead hares ear, and beadhead salvation nymph. I crossed the river at the tail of some wide shallow riffles and began my venture by working up along the bank away from the highway. I was surprised as I waded through some extremely shallow uninteresting water, when a pod of five or six fish scattered in front of me. I made a mental note to prospect shallow riffles, and this paid dividends later in my outing.

Within the first fifteen minutes I experienced several refusals to the large foam terrestrial. I was pleased to attract the attention of fish, but I recognized that I would probably need to downsize the Chernobyl in the not too distant future. Just below a single lane private driveway bridge I allowed my flies to swing and dangle, as I prepared to wade underneath the bridge, and I was shocked to feel the pulse of an active fish on the end of my line. I swept the rod sideways and behind me and found myself attached to a ten inch rainbow trout. I counted the windfall, but I always feel somewhat guilty, when I catch a fish in such a fortuitous manner.

Above the Bridge

Above the bridge I created a vexing tangle when my line wrapped around a stick that was hidden in front of an exposed boulder. It took me quite a while to unravel the birds’ nest, and I resorted to clipping off all three flies. Since I considered testing a smaller terrestrial as an adjustment to the refusals, I used the unexpected undoing of my dry/dropper as the trigger to move to a Jake’s gulp beetle. It was a logical choice, but the fish were not impressed, so after a brief trial, I reverted to a dry/dropper.

Action Begins

This time, however, I opted for a size 10 Chernboyl, a beadhead hares ear, and a small RS2. This lineup would remain on my line for the next 2.5 hours. I recalled the early incident, where I spooked a pod of fish from the shallows, so I tossed some casts to a similar area above the bridge. Voila! Small brown and rainbow trout attacked the nymphs on nearly every drift. I was shocked by this shift in fortunes simply due to some astute observation at the start of my day. At the same time I began to observe some small size twenty blue winged olives, as they hovered above the surface of the water. The hatch remained sparse under the mostly clear bright sky, but the baetis nymphs apparently caught the attention of the fish.

Gorgeous Colors

From 10:30 until 12:30 I incremented the fish count from one to twelve, and I noticed nearly as many momentary hook ups as fish landed. Initially I instigated hits when I raised the rod tip to recast, but as the emergence continued, I also hooked fish with upstream casts, when the Chernobyl stopped dead in its tracks. I continued to be amazed by this level of aggressiveness when the nymphs are active during an emergence. Surprisingly the deep pools and pockets were a waste of time, and I focused my efforts on shallow and moderate riffles. Apparently the fish of the Big Thompson spread out in marginal lies in order to gorge on the blue winged olive nymphs.

Lovely

By 12:30 the sparse hatch dwindled to a nonevent, but I continued my progression upstream with the dry/dropper approach, and I managed to fill my net with a couple additional brown trout. I moved faster and covered quite a bit of the stream, and by 1PM I experienced an extended lull. Since the air temperature warmed, I speculated that perhaps the fish might react to a caddis dry fly, so I tied a gray body deer hair caddis to my line and prospected along the bank away from the road. The fly was very difficult to follow, and sensing that the trout were not interested, I converted to a size 14 gray stimulator. This fly was a pleasure to follow, but it also was not on the Big Thompson trout menu.

A Bit More Size

At 1:30 I reminded myself of my 4PM commitment, so I crossed the river and returned to the Santa Fe for the return drive. Friday was an enjoyable return to the streams of Colorado, and the hot hatch period between 10:30 and 12:30 was a welcome event. I was quite pleased that my early observations guided me to fish areas that I would normally skip over, and this decision in turn rewarded me.

How universal is the appeal of Jake’s gulp beetle? I was very curious to determine if it was effective only on Clear Creek, or did the beetle’s popularity extend to other Front Range streams? On Sunday and Monday I landed 33 trout, and all were attributable to the workhorse beetle. In an effort to discover the answer to this question I planned yet another fishing trip, and this time I chose the Big Thompson River. Adequate stream flows of 49 cfs and solid fishing reports from the various fly shop web sites made this a logical choice. The weather in Estes Park, however, was a bit of a wild card, as morning rain was in the picture, and a 20% chance of showers in the afternoon loomed as a possibility. My new weather checking regimen includes wind velocity, and double digit miles per hour appeared on the Weather Underground chart. I decided to give it a try, since it represented a relatively close one and a half hour drive, and I was uncertain when my next opportunity to fish would arrive.

The Start

I drove downstream from Olympus Dam to Waltonia Bridge, which represents the end of the catch and release water when traveling east. I continue to be cognizant of the impact of the 2013 flooding, and the damage is greater as one moves away from Estes Lake. Clearly the section of river I chose to fish incorporated the risk of reduced fish population due to the flood. As I prepared my Loomis five weight, the sky was bright blue with occasional high white clouds. The pavement was wet from the recent rain, but it seemed apparent that I would enjoy dry conditions for several hours. The wind on the other hand was a concern, as the trees and bushes bent and shimmered in their effort to resist the stiff breeze flowing down the canyon.

I walked down the road and around the bend, until I was twenty yards above the Waltonia Bridge, and at this point I carefully scrambled down some large boulders to the edge of the stream. The experiment was about to begin. I knotted a size 12 Jake’s gulp beetle to my line and began to plop it into the best trout holding habitat. Within the first half hour I witnessed four refusals to the beetle. Obviously the large foam terrestrial imitation was attracting attention, but the fish were deterred at the last minute. I concluded Big Thompson trout did not respond to Jake’s gulp beetle in the same way as Clear Creek trout. For the first time in three days of fishing I was faced with making a decision about what fly to use.

I elected to switch to a size 10 Chernboyl ant, and to hedge my choice I added a beadhead hares ear on a 2.5 foot dropper. The move allowed me to get on the scoreboard, when I landed a small rainbow trout, but the two flies were attracting less attention than the beetle. Perhaps the fish were hugging bottom in the cold morning water temperatures, and my flies were not getting deep enough? I added another dropper in the form of a salvation nymph, and this fly delivered a second small rainbow. Clearly the day was not evolving in the manner that I envisioned. Adding to my frustration with the slow fishing was the relentless wind that continued to gust down the canyon. It was impossible to deliver the flies accurately and with the soft presentation that I normally strive for.

On the Board with a Small Brown Trout

At 12:15 I was stuck on two small trout, so I took a break and ate my lunch on a large flat rock next to the small river. I pondered my morning, and I concluded that the fish clearly looked toward the surface and largely ignored my subsurface offerings. I tried three large buoyant terrestrials, and they created some inspections, but none resulted in hookups. The three top flies were the Jake’s gulp beetle, the Chernobyl ant, and a hopper Juan. I decided that I would try a non-foam dry fly, and after lunch I inspected my MFC fly box and plucked a size 14 stimulator with a light orange-tan body.

Small but Pretty Rainbow Trout

My analysis proved to be correct, and between 12:30 and 1:30 I moved the fish count from two to nine. The wind played havoc with the light stimulator, and difficult lighting made it a challenge to follow at times, but if I could place my cast in the right kind of water, the fish responded. The right kind of water possessed depth and ran next to cover or along a current seam. At 1:30 I set the hook on a slurp at the tail of a pocket, and I was surprised to learn that the fish was gone as well as my fly. All the fish that I landed on Tuesday were in the six to nine inch range, so I concluded that I once again had an abrasion on my knot. The productive fly was a purchased fly, and it was the only one in my fly box, so I shifted to a size 12 gray stimulator.

Typical Productive Pocket Ahead

At this same point in time some dark clouds rolled in from the west, and the wind kicked up even more than what I battled previously. I paused on the bank and pulled on my raincoat, and this proved to be a prescient move, as a ten minute period of steadily blowing rain arrived. Once the wind and rain subsided I continued my progress upstream with the gray stimulator, and I incremented the fish counter from nine to fourteen. During my last hour of fishing I was much more selective about my targeted casting areas. I skipped large deep pools as well as small marginal pockets, and I searched for nice pockets and shelf pools that displayed three to four feet of depth. Similar to Monday on Clear Creek I coaxed a couple browns to smack the stimulator by using downstream drifts. This approach took advantage of a tailing wind, and the lighting was much more favorable for following my fly.

After the rain ended, the sky partially cleared for twenty minutes, but then a fresh set of dark clouds invaded from the west. This generated a new wave of cold wind, and I decided that I did not wish to ride out another storm. I reeled up my fly and returned to the car and called it a day.

Tuesday was a decent day given the adversity of wind, clouds and rain. I hoped that the cloud cover would initiate a blue winged olive hatch, but I never observed a single baetis mayfly. Perhaps I departed too early. I managed to land fourteen trout in four hours of fishing, but the size was somewhat disappointing. The largest fish to find my net was probably a ten inch brown trout. Once again fighting the wind was frustrating, but at least I was able to cling to a single dry fly approach. This avoided the inevitable tangles that wind and a three fly dry/dropper configuration creates. I am already looking ahead to the weather next week, when I return from a trip to Pennsylvania. 2016 may yield a few more fish before I turn my attention to the vise.

After a day of rest on Wednesday I was anxious to visit a local stream on Thursday September 29. The 2016 season is winding down, and I felt the need to take advantage of gorgeous weather while it lasted. I drove to the Big Thompson River below Lake Estes and arrived at the pullout above the first bridge after Noel’s Draw by 10:30. After I pulled on my waders and assembled my Orvis Access four weight, I walked downstream along the highway, until I reached the barbed wire fence that denotes the beginning of private water.

It was a beautiful late September day, as the temperatures reached the middle seventies by the afternoon. I wore only my fishing shirt, and I was comfortable all day. The stream flow was 39 cfs, and this is a bit below ideal for the Big Thompson, but fairly normal for early autumn.

First Trout on September 29

To begin my quest for Big Thompson River trout I tied a size 10 Chernobyl ant to my line and then added a beadhead hares ear and salvation nymph. These mainstays from my fly box allowed my to net four trout, before I broke for lunch at noon. Two of the morning fish were brown trout and two were rainbows. One of the rainbows smashed the Chernobyl ant, and the first fish snared the salvation nymph. The brown trout that snatched the salvation shot under a small branch, and I was certain I would lose the fish. By some stroke of good fortune the Chernobyl got lodged on the submerged stick, and I was able to wade over and net the brown trout. That was the good news. The whole episode created one of the worst tangles of my fly fishing career, and that is saying something. The other two morning catches favored the hares ear.

A Bright Rainbow Adds to the Fish Count

After lunch I continued to plug along with the same flies for a bit, and I landed a nice brown on the hares ear to boost the fish count to five. The catch rate, however, slowed appreciably, and I spotted a pair of blue winged olives in the air. This observation prompted me to switch the salvation for a soft hackle emerger. The change did not spur instant results, however, and I covered a significant amount of water with no results. By the time I moved above the bridge below the Santa Fe, the fish count rested on seven as a result of two small fish that latched on to the hares ear.

Lots of Boulder Hopping

I moved rather quickly through the long pool located above the bridge and next to my parked car, and then I arrived at another elongated pool next to the cabin on the side of the stream opposite the road. I spotted two rises near the tail of the deep center run, so I made the effort to remove three flies, and I tied on a size 22 CDC blue winged olive. The fish that rose previously ignored the tiny speck, but a prospecting cast prompted a darting rise from a small brown, and I moved the fish count to eight. Catching a fish on the microscopic dry fly boosted my spirits, so I made a long cast to the top left side of the long run. I lost sight of the tiny fly, so I lifted and found myself momentarily attached to a decent fish, but it managed to escape.

Above the long pool the river transformed into deep runs and pockets, so I shifted my strategy back to a hopper/dropper arrangement. I tied on a beige pool toy hopper, and then reattached the hares ear and soft hackle emerger. For the remainder of the afternoon I cast the threesome to deep pockets and runs, as I maneuvered my way around the bend and eventually exited thirty yards below Noel’s Draw. This period was the most productive segment of the day, as I incremented the fish count from eight to fourteen.

Another Hungry Rainbow

Surprisingly the hares ear was the productive fly; whereas, I expected the soft hackle emerger to shine in the midst of the sparse BWO hatch. During this time one fish snatched the soft hackle emerger, and the rest nabbed the hares ear. At one point I landed three foul hooked fish in a row. I suspect these fish refused the pool toy, and when I recognized the splash in the glare, I reacted and pulled the trailing soft hackle emerger into the front fin.

It was a decent day, but most of the action took place between 2:30 and 4:30, when some clouds moved into the area. I could have skipped the noon until 2:30 time period and saved quite a bit of wear and tear on my arm. The wind was a factor from time to time, and I suffered some of the worst tangles of the season. I blame the tangles on the wind and casting three flies, which is always a challenge. I suspect a cooler overcast day would enhance the intensity of the blue winged olive hatch, so I will keep a watchful eye on the weather forecasts.

After three consecutive days of outstanding fishing, I was due for a reality check, and today August 3 served that purpose. Hopefully today’s results are not a sign that I need to select tailwaters and high elevation headwaters over lower valley rivers and streams at this early juncture in August. The high temperature reached 98 degrees in Denver, so I suspect heat is the main explanation for my slow day on the Big Thompson River. The DWR web site displayed flows of 103 cfs, and this is actually relatively high for early August, so I cannot blame the challenging fishing on the amount of water.

103 CFS

I arrived at a pullout along US 34 approximately six miles below Olympus Dam at 10AM, and by the time I assembled and rigged my Orvis Access four weight and gathered my fly fishing essentials, it was 10:30. I began fishing with a size 14 gray deer hair caddis, and three fish in the wide relatively smooth starting pool found it to their liking. The moderate flows enabled me to cross at the wide starting point, and I love the idea of fishing along the bank that is away from the road, so I adopted this approach. As I slowly moved up the river prospecting with the small caddis, I upped my fish count to four, but then the fish began to ignore my offering.

The type of water may have had something to do with this, since it transitioned into faster runs and pockets. In an effort to make my fly more visible to me and the fish, I swapped the size 16 caddis for a size 14 stimulator with a gray body. This change did not tempt the stream residents, so I defaulted to one of my favorite lineups. I tied a size 10 Chernobyl ant to my line and dangled a 20 incher and salvation nymph below it. By 11:45 as I climbed the rocky bank to return to the car for lunch, I added one more small fish to my tally, after it struck the salvation nymph, as I lifted to make another cast.

I walked back to the Santa Fe and executed a U-turn and parked high above my lunchtime exit point. I sat on a large rock with a great vantage point, while I munched my sandwich, but I failed to spot any insects or fish. It is very unusual not to see fish in the deep pools of the Big Thompson River.

After lunch I continued from my quitting point, and within minutes I was perched at the tail of a long deep run that transformed into a wide pool. The entire area was 25 yards long and the pool covered the entire width of the river. I made some long angled casts to cover the lane along the opposite bank, and I noticed a refusal to the Chernobyl, and the brief glimpse suggested a decent fish. In the midsection of the pool, another fish flashed to the top fly. What could these fish be looking for?

It was a bit late in the season for green drakes, but I recalled encountering them in the Big Thompson in prior years, so I decided to test one. I knotted a Harrop deer hair green drake to my line, and it also generated a look but no take. Next I switched to a size 14 parachute green drake, and the large low floating mayfly created interest from three fish that elevated to inspect and then turned away. I had one more style to try, so I tied a size 14 comparadun to my line, but this was totally ignored. Since the parachute style prompted the most action, I reverted to it. I made a forty-five degree cast up and across, and as the parachute drifted across from me, a decent brown trout rushed to the surface and nipped the fly. I felt weight for a split second, and then the fish was gone. After this weak endorsement of my offering I wasted an excessive quantity of additional futile casts, before I finally conceded defeat and moved on.

The next section of water consisted of large pockets and deep runs. The green drake induced a couple more refusals along the edge, so I gave in to my instincts and returned to the dry/dropper approach. Unlike earlier I selected a tan pool toy as my top fly and added a beadhead hares ear and salvation nymph.

The Fly Is Almost Larger Than the Fish’s Mouth

It was now early afternoon, and the intense rays of the sun were shining directly on the Big Thompson River. It was quite warm and bright, and I regretted not selecting wet wading for this unusually warm summer day in the mountains. Over the two and a half hours between 1:00 and 3:30, I worked my way upstream and covered a significant amount of water. I limited my casts to three or four and then moved on. I also attempted to focus more on the banks, although the level of the river and the large population of rainbows should have supported fish in the attractive pockets and pools in other places.

A Legacy Fly Accounted for Two Fish

I feel fortunate to report that I increased my fish count to eleven before I quit for the day. Three fish grabbed the salvation nymph, and one aggressive bank dwelling brown smashed the pool toy. Part way through this period of slow action, I decided to experiment with some old flies that I carry in my fleece pouch and rarely tie on my line. I grabbed a long narrow gray wet fly with a copper rib and replaced the hares ear. Miraculously this fly accounted for two small rainbows that snatched it, as it drifted through a run of moderate depth. This was probably the most significant positive for my day on the Big Thompson River on August 3.